


Waiting

by Shadowofahunter



Series: Effects [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: After Sciles breakup, Beacon Hills, Bloody, Emotional Hurt, Fear, Gen, Hospital, Hurt Stiles, School, Sciles, Stiles whump, Stydia, shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 05:14:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6502090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowofahunter/pseuds/Shadowofahunter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott feels so guilty, it's his fault. Stiles could be dead becaus of him, he wasn't there when his best friend needed him. <br/>Lydia blames Scott, he never should've believed Theo over Stiles, now he was paying the price. She couldn't lose Stiles, she needed him, she loved him.<br/>Malia felt the fear, she waited for the result. Don't let Stiles be dead.<br/>The sheriff barely held back his tears, he couldn't lose his son, not after Caludia. He'd have nothing left.</p><p>Aftermath of Stiles's injury in previous part</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pacing

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long, I was away and there was no wifi, and I have loads of work too, I'll try and post this as regularly as I can.

Scott, Lydia, Malia and the Sheriff stood shocked for a few tense seconds then Scott broke the stillness, he dipped into a sprint, straight to his mud bike,  
"Where are you going?" The Sheriff called after him  
"To the hospital. This is my fault, I can't...I have to" Scott looked back with tears in his eyes, terror bit his insides filling him with pain. He shakily held eye contact then turned away wiping his eyes, he took the helmet and pushed it onto his head, guilt washed around inside him, he kept thinking about how soft Stiles's heartbeat was in the ambulance, was it the distance that weakened it or was he dying?   
A soft hand clasped his shoulder, "Where your other helmet?" Lydia's voice came from behind him, determination swam around in her held back tears, Scott blinked them mutely turned to get his spare helmet.  
"I'm following you both" Malia announced, "I can run"  
"You can come in my car with me" Stilinski replied looking down at his keys rifling through until he got the right one. He glanced up then went to his car.

Scott and Lydia watched as Malia glanced round at them before climbing into the Sheriffs car,   
"Lydia" Scott began, "I'm sorry for earlier with Liam and-"  
"Shut up Scott" she snapped, "I don't care about that right now. All that matters is Stiles." She went to get on the bike  
"But it's my fault-"  
"Yeah it is Scott!" she angrily spun round hair flickering, "this is your fault! If you hadn't been so far up your ass then you would've noticed how miserable and scared Stiles was! You would've seen through Theo and realised he only talked bull. You would've saved Stiles." She held eye contact with the cowering Alpha then blinked, "Come on" Lydia said, she put on her helmet and tucked her hair behind her shoulders. Scott nodded and clambered into the seat Lydia held onto his waist as they sped off. 

Beneath the helmet's visor Lydia freely wept, her tears whipped from her cheeks by he wind rushing through the gaps, Stiles couldn't die. She couldn't lose him, he was her rock, her steadfast soldier who saved everyone them let others take the triumph. Stiles the saviour. Her saviour. She realised she had been harsh to Scott just now but she needed him to understand, she needed someone to blame for she also didn't see the suffering of her friend. Her scream was dormant at the moment but she could feel it still there, reminding her of Stiles's mortality, his human weakness. Death. She begged Scott to go faster.

Scott twisted the handle and the bike shot forwards, they veered round corners and hurtled along the straights trying to catch the ambulance, trying to save Stiles. Guilt moved through Scott as fast as the bike along the road, if Stiles died it was his fault. He should've listened to Stiles, Lydia was right; Theo had blinded him by his charm and seemingly genuine feelings. How could he have been so stupid? When had ever he ignored Stiles's advice? Never. Now the cost was too great. 

The droning engine from Scott's bike was like a fly: incessant and irritating, Lydia's already frayed nerves we're getting even shorter. Lights glared, she shrieked and Scott swerved as the car horn blared at them, so wrapped up in his blame that he nearly crashed into a car. He shook his head and focused on getting to the hospital and getting to his dying friend who he'd abandoned. 

Adrenaline gushed through Scott making his pupils dilate and his heartbeat rise. He blinked and his world sharpened, his eyes had changed. A red tinge shadowed his vision. He was barely controlling his wolf; the animal was rampaging and howling at the loss of Stiles, he felt his fangs, just held back, ready to drop and a pain-riddled howl was bubbling just beneath the surface. He blinked heavily and felt his irises shift back to human.

In the car it was the Sheriff who broke the silence, "what happened?"  
Malia looked at him raising an eyebrow, "Stiles was at school and-"  
"Not that." The sheriff cut her off sharply not wanting to think about what has happened to his son, "the Pack. What happened to make Scott kick Stiles out?"  
Malia sighed and flopped her head back onto the headrest staring the ceiling, she couldn't look at Stiles's dad whilst telling him this, "do you know about...Donavan?"  
"Yeah. Yeah I do" he quietly replied  
"Well Stiles didn't tell Scott what happened, I think he was afraid of what Scott would say, he delayed and delayed until it was too late...Theo told him some bull story about Stiles using his wrench to...to smash Donavan's head in. He even said that Stiles was laughing like a psychopath. It's so stupid, Stiles isn't a murderer! Why would Scott believe that?" She was crying now, she let the tears roll down her face allowing her emotions to be free, the car raced down the roads, sirens on, Scott's bike was a few meters in front, "He faced Stiles outside the animal clinic. He gave him the wrench and Stiles recognised it, it still had Donavan's blood on it. Scott told Stiles what Theo told him. Stiles denied it but Scott wouldn't believe him. He...he told him to stay away from the Pack, that everything that went wrong was his fault and that...he should've let the nogistune kill Stiles. He said it would've saved them all so much trouble" Malia couldn't continue she covered her mouth with her hands and collapsed into wretched misery.

John was shocked, he'd always loved Scott like a second son, like Stiles's brother, this betrayal went straight to his core a feeling of disgust at the Alpha grew, a fungus infecting his thoughts. Stilinski wasn't a religious man but it reminded him of the tale of Cain and Abel, and how Cain murdered his brother viciously; this was Scott killing Stiles. The Sheriff frowned and pushed his foot on the gas pedal, overtaking Scott's bike. 

Scott turned his head to see the police car shoot past him, the Sheriff sat in the drivers seat hands clenched on the wheel, Malia was shotgun tears streaked down her face, neither looked at him.

Scott pulled up at the hospital only two minutes behind the Sheriff and Malia, he'd gone though the preserve passing Derek's house and wishing he was here, he'd have know what to do at this time. Dead leaves had sprayed from his wheels cascading behind them, confetti thrown too late. The White tiles in the hospital had mud pressed into them from Scott's shoes, Lydia dashed in behind, her hair was like wild fire and mascara streaked her cheeks but she didn't care,   
"Where is he?" She was nearly shouting in her desperation to deny the feelings that were steadily rising in her aching chest, the feelings that were telling her that Stiles was dying, she caught sight of dark wavy hair, Melissa. Lydia sprinted towards her, "where is he? Where's Stiles?" 

Melissa looked at Lydia, the girl's frantic desperation clear in her emerald irises, the same emotion was being restrained within Melissa too. However, she had to be professional, be calm and collected and relay information. If she let any emotion she she would break down, Stiles was her second son, she had grown up with him: cared for him watched him and comforted him. She needed him just as much as he needed her, "he's in the OR right now-"  
"What happened?" Lydia brusquely interrupted  
Melissa knew she wasn't talking about the school, "one bullet is in his right shoulder, thankfully it didn't hit an artery it was just in the muscle, it was still in him it acted as a block, if it had passed through he'd have lost a lot more blood." By this time Scott, Malia and the Sheriff had come over, listening to the wealth of injuries, "the second bullet passed right through his abdomen, there was a burn around the edge, clearly shot whilst the muzzle was touching him" Lydia restrained a gasp, "that could have potentially torn something, they were unsure what. Finally the third bullet was the worst, it went into his chest, it shattered the base of the sternum and lodged right between the lungs, again not much was gleaned in the ambulance but judging by his breathing some of the shattered bone could have punctured his lung." She sighed and ran a trembling hand through her long hair.

She had been one of the paramedics who brought him into the hospital from the ambulance, she remembered the still wet blood that covered his torso, his rattling breaths, his pale complexion with fluttering eyelids. Never before had the sight of blood made her feel nauseous but right then she felt like she would faint, her vision swam slightly and she'd pulled away from the gurney shutting out the paramedics words, "he was very lucky someone in the halls outside had the brains to call 911. If we were any later he'd have surely died." 

The others let that sink in, Stiles was so close to dying and they hadn't been the ones to save him. 

"The seven other students didn't survive, major blood loss and shock killed them" Melissa added quietly, "the shooter shot himself in the head after shooting Stiles. And Coach took a shot to the arm, he'll be fine but knowing him he will make a show out of it" she tried to smile but couldn't managed it, too much effort. None of the others' lips moved either. 

Seven kids. Seven were dead. Innocent. Killed just because they were there. Scott let that run through his head, then the Sheriff broke their thoughts, "I heard one of the unharmed students say how Stiles saved her." He paused looking at the linoleum floor, "she had gone to stop the shooter, he'd pointed his gun at her and Stiles had begged her not to...not to get up any further. They don't even know each other." Melissa went over to John and hugged him, he welcomed it and let his tears fall. If he lost Stiles he'd have nothing. Nothing. He'd lost Claudia, he couldn't lose his only child too.   
"I can't lose him Melissa" he whispered   
"You won't. I promise" she replied and pulled away looking him straight in his teary eyes, "he's strong, John. He'll pull through. He always does."

Lydia couldn't sit still, if she did the agony in her chest would be overwhelming. She kept pacing up and down the hall, reaching the doors of the OR these spun round and paced back to the huddled group, then back again. Her cycle helped her to think, "why was he there? The shooter?"   
They others looked blearily up at her, Scott frowned but the Sheriff answered, "we didn't find out who he was before he shot himself. He should be brought here later after they've identified him."   
She nodded and resumed her pacing.

"Lydia stop. You're making me nervouser" Malia finally said  
"More nervous" Lydia interrupted  
"What?"   
"It's more nervous, not nervouser..." Lydia's voice faded as she remembers Stiles telling Malia the exact same thing right at the start of the year. The sob, held back finally overcame her and she broke down, she collapsed to her knees holding her chest, hands rushed round her trying to comfort her but they didn't feel the pain like she did when Stiles was shot, didn't feel the raw force of the metal and the fierce cold shock that pervaded their nerves as the blood drained from them. She was lifted up and carried to the uncomfortable seats where she was placed down. 

The sheriff took off his coat and shrouded her in it, his smell comforted her, it reminded her of Stiles: soap and a deep earthy scent and a hint of lavender, but with the Sheriff there was also a undercurrent of whiskey, the alcohol separated him and his son. Grateful she pulled it closer around her and curled up tighter. 

They sat once more silence. 

Waiting for news. 

Waiting for anything. 

Waiting.


	2. Back home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How bad were Stiles's injuries? Were they deeper than skin?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is short, the next chapter will be longer

Finally a doctor walked out of the OR looking exhausted but happy, "Stilinski?"  
The group looked up and rose, "yes" Malia replied  
"I'm doctor Singer, I performed the surgery" He ran a hand up over his grey stubble and rubbed the back of his head, eyes dull and tired, "it was a very difficult surgery. The first bullet went into his shoulder, thankfully it lodged there causing a block so not much blood came out even when he landed on his front. The second was shot point black, this was very clear as his clothes around the entry wound were burned from the gunpowder as was his skin"  
Lydia gasped and Malia clasped her hands around Scott's gripping his hand tightly, she felt like she was going to faint,   
"the third bullet, however, this one... It was shot from around four arm lengths. When it entered his chest it completely shattered his sternum, the bone became shrapnel inside him, it punctured his lungs in various places. It wasn't shot straight on - if it was he'd probably be paralysed as his spinal chord would've been broken and the spine shattered. Thankfully it was shot at an angle, this saved his life. Furthermore, the shooter only - I say only - used a low-velocity gun. But one of the pieces of shrapnel from his sternum punctured his heart, it only pierced the muscle and didn't penetrate the ventricle thankfully, if it had he'd have bled out in a matter of seconds. However all of these made the surgery very, very risky. He'd lost a lot of blood and for a few minutes we" he paused and glanced at each of them individually, "we lost him, but we got him back. He's a very lucky kid Sheriff"  
"Depends how you see lucky doc" he responded  
"There is that. For now he'll be in the ICU, no one but immediate family to see him, I'm sorry" he said to the broken complaints from the teenagers, "hospital rules. We don't know how long he will be in the ICU for. It could be days, it could be weeks. We have heavily sedated him, we couldn't risk putting him in a chemically induced coma as his body would most likely not be strong enough to bring him back. He will stay sleeping for a while now, let him heal."  
He fell silent as the group filtered through the information, how lucky Stiles had been, how he was pulled away by death but snatched back by the living.  
"Thanks." Stilinski said  
"It's my job, I save people" Singer replied with a slight tired smile  
"No, really. Thank you so much, I can't put it into words-" John had tears in his eyes as he desperately searched for the right words  
The doctor held up his hand, "you don't have to, I know what this feels like Sheriff" he didn't elaborate and began to make his way back out of the waiting room  
"Hey doctor Singer"  
He turned round  
"Get some rest, you look exhausted" the doctor raised a hand in agreement then left the clustered room. 

They stood in silence,   
"Sheriff you should go see him" Lydia broke the spell, they all looked at him but he looked almost afraid of what he'd see.  
"I don't know if...if I can...go in alone" his voice was broken as he slumped into a chair head in hands  
"Why?" Melissa asked putting her hand on his shoulder comforting the older man  
"I feel like I'm partly to blame here Melissa. Theo got into my head too, he told me some story, I don't remember it right now but it made me doubt my own son! What if I hadn't believed him he'd still...still be-" he was cut off by his own tears and he succumbed to his guilt-ridden grief.   
"I think you kids should go home now. Try and get some rest" Melissa said, "you all look exhausted  
"But mum we can't just-" Scott tried  
"Oh yes you can" Melissa answered, her eyes firey. She pointed to the door, "home. Now. Go."  
"I'll take them home Melissa" the Sheriff said, "I can't face seeing Stiles now. I just can't"  
Melissa nodded sadly, "tomorrow I'll get you all in. I still have my keycard"

 

"I don't want to go home" Lydia said, she still wore the Sheriffs coat, wrapped around her shoulders, "I can't pretend everything's fine and sleep tonight knowing Stiles is...there."  
"I can't either" Malia added, she was showing much more emotion that she'd used to and it was strange, she wasn't so blunt with her responses, "I want to stay with Stiles"  
Stilinski sighed, "I have a spare room if you want, I can sleep on the couch"   
Lydia nodded gratefully.

The rest of the drive was silent. The trees dashed past the windows and the Tarmac ran under the wheels. The Sheriff finally pulled into his drive and switched off the ignition. He pulled himself out of the vehicle lethargically.   
Scott followed silently behind the trio, head down. He'd said nothing in the car. While he waited for Stilinski to unlock the door he noticed something on the ground,it was right by the doormat, he crouched to pick it up, his nails scratching in the ground.

It was a picture, Stiles and Scott grinned up at him, a dirty foot print covered Scott's face, the mud had dried on it, binding to the paper. Scott sucked in a breath as he remembered where this was from; Stiles's keys. Scott's fingers brushed a torn edge, where Stiles had ripped it from the metal ring, more tears threatened to crash down his cheeks. Stiles had given up on Scott. Only after Scott hard shoved Stiles so far away he could scarcely bring him back. 

"What's that?" Malia asked  
"Picture" Scott thickly replied  
"It's from Stiles's Keychain" Stilinski replied venom in his voice, "he removed it after you kicked him out of the pack"   
Scott flinched at the accusation in his best friends fathers voice, "Theo made me-"  
"No Scott. Theo didn't make you do anything. He fed you lies and you ate them up before even stopping to think about it! You believed Theo. That's all it is. Some True Alpha you are" disgust was etched into the Sheriffs face and the finger that pointed right at his chest sparked more fear in Scott than facing the Alpha Pack ever had. The picture fell from his numb fingers and floated to the ground where it landed face down.

As it fell all eyes were drawn to it, fascinated. They didn't move even after its landed and the Sheriff's shoulders slumped one more, he sighed and ran a shaking hand through his hair, "come in then" he entered with out looking back. 

Scott hesitated, should he go in? He hated himself just as much as the others loathed him right now. Could he face their accusing stare? Then he remembered, he'd left his bike at the Hospital, it was too far to walk back and too far to his house, especially as it was getting dark too. Even with his wolf vision he didn't fancy a midnight stroll even when he was only just controlling his wolf. He took in a deep breath, exhaled and followed the Sheriff into the house he'd once felt so welcome, now it felt hostile.


	3. Home sweet home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The four arrive at the Stilinski's house

Lydia walked slowly through the hall, she glanced into the kitchen to see the Sheriff slide into one of the seats at the table. He looked exhausted, drained of energy. He rubbed his forehead on the heel of his hands. 

Lydia carried on quietly up the stairs and made her way past the guest room, she came to a halt outside his room. Stiles's room. She reached out a trembling hand and touched the handle, it was cool to touch. Her banshee radar seemed even more sensitive right now, her nerves were wound up tight and everything was extreme. The doors soft creak as she pushed it open it revealed his room. It was empty of anything Pack related: no whiteboard, no paper, no string. She felt her mouth open slightly, gaping at the lack of...Stiles. 

It seemed so sterile compared to the clutter of his mind that used to fill the walls. The bare blue glared at her like an accusing finger, the cleanliness felt like a disease. She shivered as she stepped in further, bringing her arms up around her tugging his dad's coat tighter around her torso.

On his desk sat his laptop, the dark screen faced her. She went over and tapped a key, the screen saver popped up. It was an old picture; six people smiled at the camera, well five smiled, Derek ever poker faced glared at the lens, but a gleam of happiness still shone through his mask. Scott had his arms around Allison, they were both grinning happily. Isaac was just lazily smiling at the camera arms crossed over his chest leaning on the wall, then Stiles and Lydia were hugging on the right side of the screen, he was laughing and she was giggling too. She smiled sadly at the image, she remembered that day exactly, it was one of the happiest times she could remember. It was just them. 

They had met at Derek's loft, watched films, played board games (that was when she found out Stiles's hatred of Monopoly) and just generally had fun. She hadn't had that release in a long time, it had been amazing to let everything go and relax like a normal teenager. What she wouldn't give to go back to that time. 

Sure Malia and Kira were her friends, close friends but they weren't Allison. She was her twin, her other half. They'd been such fast friends that Allison had died for Lydia. More tears threatened her, she turned away from the photograph only to catch sight of her pencil drawing of the Nemeton. The same one Aiden had picked up when Stiles had gone missing that fateful night when the Nogitsune took control. The little note 'for Lydia' was still wedged in the back of the frame. She brushed her fingers softly over it like she was reading Braille, she sniffed gently and put it back on his bedside cabinet. 

Posters were littered sparsely over his walls, random band posters, films, to shows. Nothing related to the supernatural. Her eyes were again drawn to the huge blank space of the facing wall, even his cork board had been removed. She walked over to them taking in the emptiness as though searching for answers on how to save Stiles. She let her gaze fall down onto the desk once more and spotted a small black book, a notebook. She frowned and picked it up, the pages had small drawings on them. 

She never knew what a fantastic artist Stiles was, inside were sketches; people, the Pack, Lydia, wolf heads, Lydia with angel wings, a paw print, his own attempt of Lydia's Nemeton drawing, the nogitsune. She paused on the haunting image of the bandaged man. He had captured the evil essence of the demon, the teeth in the maw glinted in an unknown light, the bomber jacket reflected the dull glow. It was in a crouched position, ready to attack. She flicked onto the next page, she didn't want to look at what Stiles had been force to stare at for weeks on end. On the next page was writing, the same word written over and over again: self. The words were written in the shape of a backwards 5. The Japanese kanji for self.   
"Oh Stiles" she whispered to no one, she blinked at her fuzzy vision and turned the pages away again, the next page was a group photo, this time everyone who'd ever been in the Pack was there: Stiles, Scott, Allison, Lydia, Isaac, Derek, Jackson, Aiden, Ethan, Kira, Malia, Peter, Erica, Boyd, Liam, Mason they were all there. But on some of the beautiful drawings were heavy crosses, over the ones who'd died or left. Only he, Lydia, Scott, Kira, Malia, Liam and Mason were left. This images really punched how much they'd lost in her face, the glaring truth of the cost of lycanthropy. She snapped the book shut and placed it back on the table.  
"You ok?" Lydia jumped at Malia's voice  
She nodded as she turned, "yeah as good as I can be I guess. You?"  
Malia scanned the room taking in everything, "no. I'm worried about Stiles. I'm angry at Scott. I'm...I'm angry at myself." She looked straight at Lydia, "I think some of this is my fault, I pushed him away when it came to the Desert Wolf, he wanted to help but I left him out." She exhaled a shaky breath, "I don't know what I can do to help him now" she was whispering by the end. Lydia went over to her and hugged her, the werecoyote pressed her nose into her friend's shoulder grateful for the comfort. 

Scott tiptoed around the kitchen door,  
"Why did you do it?" The Sheriff asked, he didn't sound angry, just tired and resigned. He hadn't even looked up from the table top, "why did you do it Scott?"  
"I don't know" Scott slowly approached Stiles's broken father, he sat down in the open seat, "I was stupid, I've always been so anti-killing that I become blinded I think when I am faced with it-"  
"But you didn't with Jackson when he was a Kanima" John interrupted  
Scott paused thinking, "I...I don't...he wasn't in control, he was being controlled by Matt and Gerard"  
"Stiles was doing it in self-defence. Donavan would've killed him"  
"I know that now"  
"Why does it make a difference? You should've listened to him, then made a decision-"  
"You don't think I'm thinking that right now?!" Scott snapped, his voice cracked with emotions. He didn't notice Lydia and Malia waiting hesitantly in the hall, "you don't think I'm beating myself up knowing it's my fault? That if I hadn't been such an ass that I'd be talking to my best friend right now! I know it's my fault and I can't do a SINGLE THING TO HELP HIM!" His voice had risen to a shout as he'd leapt to his feet, tears running freely once more, he slammed his open palm on the table on each word he yelled, he glared at Stilinski who stared straight back, "what do you think I'm going to do when I see him again? Huh? Just hug it out! I can barely face seeing him in the hospital and he won't even know I'm THERE! I've just lost my best friend, my BROTHER and I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO!" He sunk back into the seat sobbing, finally he'd gotten everything off his chest  
"You have to tell him that" Lydia came round the corner making Scott start  
"What?"   
"Tell him that, he won't completely forgive you after what you did but it's a start. Stone number one, then build on it. You won't get back to where you were but that's your fault."  
She said it so matter of factory that he could do nothing but agree.  
"You should all get som rest." John announced, he led Lydia and Malia to the guest rooms, Malia opted to take the floor mattress he'd dragged form the attic, and shows Scott to his own room. He looked at the teenager then shut the door with a snap.  
John stared at the blank TV in front of him hoping, praying Stiles would be OK.


	4. Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at the hospital

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is another short chapter, I promise next one will be longer. Much longer.

Breakfast was a quiet affair the next morning, everyone was enveloped in their own thoughts. Scott felt slightly nauseous at the prospect of seeing his wounded friend, Malia could smell it oozing from him, she didn't smell much better. Her gnawing concern for Stiles was palpable, then Lydia's sleep deprived fear was as pungent as a wolf's own scent. The sheriffs was the most awkward, it made them feel like they were intruding on the man's innermost thoughts. The main smell was fear, then guilt, finally - and strangest - was defeat. He'd already lost Stiles in his head.  
"Stop it" Malia snapped at him scowling  
He looked up confused  
"Stop thinking like that. You're thinking he's already gone, you stink of it. He's not gone"  
He had no reply to the harsh words just stood up and put the dirty plates in the sink. He leaned against the top and took a deep breath, "he's not gone. He's not gone. He's not gone." He whispered it to himself knowing the wolves could hear him, "let's go"

The hospital was relatively quiet, thankfully there had been no massacres in the night. They made their way over to Melissa behind the reception desk, she caught sight of them and stood up,  
"Ready?"  
"No" John croaked  
She nodded then proceeded to lead them along the corridors to the ICU. Stiles had his own room. Her keycard flashed green on the card reader. She paused outside the doors, her hand on the handle, "he had a hard operation, he's needed to have blood replenished and and IV. There will be lots of machines. Don't panic, he needs you and you need him." She pushed the double doors open.

Stiles lay silent between the sheets. His eyes were closed, peaceful and oblivious to his pain or theirs. A tube travelled down his oesophagus supplying his damaged lungs with oxygen, the gentle hiss from the machine added sound to the symphony of life saving machinery. A healing melody. Lydia hated it. She stepped closer to his still body, she reached out a hand and took his pale hand in her own trembling one. 

The Sheriff approached his son slowly, with each step his guilt ate away at him, it was like Claudia all over again, he watched helpless as she fell away from him, now his son was floating away too. He placed a hand on Stiles's shoulder feeling the cool heat beneath his skin, it wasn't feverish but still not completely healthy. Malia came up to Stiles taking in his form, he looked almost grey in the white sheets, the blood loss evident. His breaths were thin and weak, bandages wound up from his torso, the shoulder by Lydia was covered by more padding, the bullet wound underneath. 

Scott didn't move from his position in the doorway. His mum came up from behind him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder,   
"You should go closer"  
"I can't" his voice thick with emotion  
"Why?" Her voice was soft  
"I can't go I there knowing I did this." Faint fearful exasperation was in his words, "knowing this is all my fault"  
"Not all of it"  
"What?" He looked at her through his tears  
"It's not all your fault, I blame Theo. He's the one that wormed into your Pack, he's the one that broke you up"  
"But I let him"   
She paused, thinking, "you're not going to like this but I think it's because you're an Alpha, Theo is a chimera - another supernatural creature - Stiles is... Stiles is human. Maybe your Wolf listened to Theo because your both supernatural. I don't know honey" she hugged her son trying to comfort him, "when he wakes up talk to him"  
"What if he doesn't wake up mum?" His words were muffled by her clothes  
"He will" she stroked his hair looking at Stiles, "he has to"


	5. Finality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this, thank you so much for the Kudos :)

Five days after Scott was asleep in the chair by Stiles's bed, his head rested in his hand, eyes closed, hair flopping over his forehead. Melissa had come to check on them and smiled when she saw them. Stiles had been improving steadily, the tube had been removed yesterday, his reconstructed sternum was holding and wasn't being rejected by his body. None of his bullet wounds had become infected. Overall he was extremely lucky. Yet Melissa knew the greatest hurdle was yet to come, the psychological effects and emotional trauma would be the greatest barrier. She hoped that by the boys talking it would fix them both. She hoped. 

Time seemed irrelevant right now, he was just there. Where there was he was quite unsure of, but he wasn't bothered. It was nice where he was, calm, quiet, peaceful. He was sitting cross legged but there was no floor to sit on. He was surrounded by a bright light. He smiled, here was good, here he was happy. More time indefinitely passed, then a change caught his eye. He glanced at it, it was shade. The dark came from nowhere. He frowned confused. Why would that be here? The shade began to spread, the tones showing shapes, then tiny red and green lights popped on and off, they broke his stillness by adding the sense of sound. The quiet beeps were annoying, he tried to tell them to shut up, but his mind was sluggish and slow only a small moan came from his throat.

Scott snapped his eyes open at the tiny sound, he looked up at Stiles who was blinking slowly, his eyes drifted around unfocused and slightly dazed, 'probably the drugs' thought Scott. He sat up straighter, that movement drew Stiles's attention. His friend frowned, confused,  
"Sco'?" His speech was slurred with sleep and meds.  
"Hey man" Scott nervously replied  
"Wha' happen'?" He mumbled looking round vacantly, then he stilled and grimaced, clearly moving wasn't the best option right now, "why does my chest feel like a car's parked on it?" He went to lift a hand to his chest but found tubes and lines connected to his hand and he stared at them instead  
"You were...injured" stiles turned to look at him, his head bobbing slightly, "you've been out for a few days now" Scott answered avoiding the school, not wanting to remind Stiles, he didn't want to remind him now seeing as he was blissfuly unaware at this moment in time  
"Injured?" Stiles blinked at him raising a wobbly eyebrow, his eyelids dropping slightly as he fought off the sleep, he still felt disconnected and behind like everything took a few seconds to compute, "how...how?"  
"You were at...you were at school"  
Stiles scrunched his eyebrows trying to remember, he remembered pain, lots of pain. Slowly his memories germinated in his mind, he was at school. Why wasn't Scott there? A man had come in with a gun. He'd shot people. Dead.  
"How many dead?" He quietly asked  
"Seven people"  
Stiles only looked at his hands, he was silent for a long time  
"Stiles it" he reached out a tentative hand, then put it on his brothers arm, "it wasn't your fault"  
"Why weren't you there? I don't remember you being there." Try as he might Stiles couldn't find Scott, or the rest of the Pack for that matter, in his memories.  
"We were with Deaton"  
"Why wasn't I?" His mind was still groggy, but it was finally clearing of the drugs  
"We...we had had an argument" Scott admitted, taking his hand from Stiles's arm his eye following his hand travel to his lap as he couldn't meet his intense gaze, "I didn't tell you about going to Deaton's because of that"  
Stiles's eyes hadn't moved from Scott's face, his eyebrows twitched into a frown.

Stiles remembered being wet. Wet and cold. Wet, cold and angry. Then rain poured into his memory, a torrential downpour, soaking his clothes. He remembers the deathly cold wrench. He remembered his throat aching after screaming at someone. At Scott. He remembered the visceral fury that rages through him, because...because Scott blamed him. For what? He dug for an answer. He closed his eyes. Then a crash of memory hit him, Scott blamed him for Donavan. Donavan's death. He remembered the words Scott hurled at him. He remembered everything. 

Stiles snapped his eyes open to see Scott looking at him guiltily,  
"Get out" Stiles snarled firey fury rushing through his veins again  
"What?" Scott was taken aback  
"GET OUT!" Stiles made to leap at Scott, anger dancing behind his eyes, but he was caught by the pain of his injures, he doubled over coughing eyes scrunched shut again.  
"HELP! HELP!" Scott roared out of the room as Stiles's knees gave way and he collapsed onto the floor, blood coming from his mouth still coughing, hacking at his chest. Scott hurried over to help him up but Stiles shoved him away, he didn't need to say anything, his anger filled, pain riddled eyes spoke enough words on their own. They blamed Scott. He heard the nurses rush in to help Stiles. He couldn't do it. He backed up, turned and ran.

He passed Lydia, Malia, Stilinski and his mum and punched his way out of the hospital doors. He hurtled away from his former brother, he sprinted out into the woods never breaking his stride. 

His feet pounded on the earth, then he came to the crevasse, he didn't stop only sped up and leapt. In mid-air he felt the shift coming and knew he had no will to resist it, his fangs slid down glinting in the moonlight, his eyes bled Alpha red, claws burst from his fingertips. 

He jumped a human, landed a wolf. 

His heightened senses sent him crazy, he could still smell Stiles's blame on him, he snarled and pushed his legs harder, he sped through the he trees following his instinct. He crashed out of the trees finding himself at the Point. He bounded onto the rock, threw back his head and howled. He howled for his pain, his grief, his guilt. Only after he'd pushed out every last molecule of air form his lungs and his throat ached did he stop, his roar echoed over the town. 

He drew back from the rock whimpering as his wolf mourned the loss of Stiles, he sat curled up against the rock for what seemed like an age. 

Melissa exited Stiles's room ripping off her gloves and chucked them into a trash can,  
"He'll be fine. When he moved suddenly it ripped a few of his stitches in his chest, nothing to worry about."  
The others sighed in relief.  
However, Lydia was also keeping an eye out on the doors, waiting to see if Scott was going to return, he'd ran out too quickly to stop,  
"You should go after him" she said, looking at Malia  
"After Scott?"  
Lydia nodded, "he still hasn't come back, and I don't know if he will unless someone talks to him."

Scott finally looked up from his foetal position, his neck cracked and he groaned as his stuff legs uncurled. He stood up and looked around. He was alone, completely isolated. Should he go back? After what Stiles did when he remembered could he face those hazel eyes again? He had to go back to the hospital anyways, his bike and mum were there. He sighed and rubbed the back of his head and set off. He walked this time, his wolf had calmed down, he'd tamed the beast. 

Malia was just about to go find the Alpha when he came back through the glass doors. He looked drained. He spotted the group and made his way over.  
Melissa strode over and embraced him in a loving hug. She whispered to him and he nodded looking up at her, hope starting to re-kindle in his deep eyes.

Lydia waited to see Scott was ok, then she took in a deep breath and went into Stiles's room. He was lying down staring at the ceiling.  
"What do I do?" He asked, not looking at her. She noticed his eyes were slightly red, like he'd been crying  
"What do you mean?"  
He looked at her full in the eyes, "I mean what do I do about... about Scott? I can barely look at him without getting angry. I'm always taken back to the argument. I try to ignore it but I can't." Tears were softly tracing down his cheeks, Lydia watched them until the pillow absorbed them then she flicked her eyes back to his desperate ones, her gut wrenched at the raw pain and loss in them,

She sighed and fiddled with her hair, "I don't know Stiles. Maybe try talking to him. He's beating himself up about this, he knows it's his fault. Maybe...hear him out, listen to his side. Try to understand him. Then you tell him what you feel."  
"Banshee therapy 101" he smiled weakly. He tried to sit up but grimaced in pain. She hurriedly helped him, she pushed up his pillows and helped him sit back on them. He released a breath he'd been holding,  
"Thanks" he mumbled  
" 'Ts OK" she smiled back. It was strange seeing him like this, he's normally so full of life and energy but now he was still and quiet. She wanted normal Stiles back.  
"I should talk to him." He announced softly looking at her, "do it now"  
"Good idea" she bent down to brush a soft kiss on his forehead, it sent tingled down his spine,  
"It worked" he chuckled  
"What did?" She frowned  
"Making you fall for me"  
"In your dreams Stilinski" she chuckled  
"You can't lie to me Banshee" he said as she left shaking her head  
She thought about his words, and she fallen for him? Then it hit her. She had. She's fallen for Stiles, and she relished it. 

"You should go in, he wants to talk to you" she told him.  
Scott looked round surprised, Lydia stood behind him, she had rosy cheeks and a quiet smile on her face, "me?"  
"Yeah you. Go talk to him." She ordered arms crossed.  
Even a True Alpha would be dare argue with Lydia right now, he nodded meekly and walked past her out side Stiles's room.

Stiles watched as Scott entered his room, he tried to squash the feelings of resentment that rose in his aching chest,  
"Hi" he gruffly said  
"Hey"  
An awkward pause followed  
"I'm sorry about earlier"  
"It's ok. My fault. I should've told you not left it out."  
Stiles nodded  
Another pause  
"Why?"  
Scott frowned slightly  
"Why do you believe him? Theo?"  
"I don't know"  
Stiles scoffed  
"I honestly don't. I've always been to anti-killing that I forgot there is more than murder." Scot hated that word, it made him feel dirty saying it,  
"You could have at least heard me out" Stiles said  
Scot didn't have a response to that  
"But I'm to blame there I guess" Stiles muttered angrily to himself, Scott glanced up to see Stiles glaring at a spot of the wall, "I should have told you what happened, I was" he paused and Scott was shocked to see tears welling up in Stiles's eyes, then his best friend turned to face him, "I was too afraid of seeing your face when told you I'd...I'd killed someone" he was basically whispering that last part, "I was too scared to see the betrayal in your eyes, too afraid of letting you down, breaking your number one rule. I couldn't do it. But then when I was going to Theo'd told you first, he'd gotten to you and told you some bull story and then I know I'd lost."  
"But I was too stupid to see through it. I should've told told Theo to shove it where the sun don't shine"  
A smile tugged at Stiles's lips, then he bent his head forwards and ran his IV covered hand through his hair, "I'm sorry Scott" he whispered  
"Me too. I should've been a better Alpha-"  
"No you did your job. You protected your Pack."  
"Against what?"  
"Me" stiles looked at him again, "you thought I was dangerous so you protected your Pack"  
"By being an ass" again the small smile apprehend on Stiles's lips  
"Look man, things are going to be...different from what they used to be. There's no point argue in that, but we can try to fix it as best we can."  
Scott nodded, overjoyed. Stiles may not have complete forgiven him but this was better than he could've dreamed of.  
He approached Stiles and dipped for a hug, his friend wrapped his left arm round Scott, his right to painful to move at the moment.  
"Thanks man" Scott whispered  
"You wouldn't be able to survive without me" Scott pulled back affronted, "who come up with the best ideas?" Stiles pointed at himself smirking  
Scott chuckled

Lydia listened from the other side of the doors with Malia and the adults, she smiled when they heard the two boys laughing, she rested her head against the cool metal door in relief, they were healing each other. 

It took another week before Stiles was deemed fit to go home on strict orders of no strenuous activity,  
"Oh what a bummer" Stiles sarcastic you retorted. Lydia guessed they were letting Stiles go early as he was going stir-crazy, ADHD made behind bedridden very difficult.  
The car home was quiet, then Stiles spoke,  
"I'm gonna paint my wall"  
"You what?" his dad asked  
"Is everyone around here deaf? I'm going to paint my wall." He answered, "I've got a big blank wall and I'm gonna put something on it."  
"Any ideas?"  
"I'm gonna do it as it comes" he settled back into the seat, thankfully before he'd left the doctors had given him another shot of pain meds, he still felt woozy from the drugs.  
The car finally pulled up in the drive, Stiles waited to open the door. He looked up at the house, last time he'd been here it was just after his argument. He took a deep breath, hitching at the last second as pain shot through is torso. Then he reached over and owned the door with this left arm keeping his right close to his body.  
He stepped out shakily, his dad came and supported him. Together they walked up the drive, Stiles felt slightly giddy when they reached the door and he shut his eyes. 

When he heard the door open he opened his eyes and stepped through the door. John led him up the stairs to his room. Stiles sat down onto his bed sighing. He was still hurting from his injuries but it was becoming more manageable, he was gaining a larger range of movement daily. He looked up at his dad's concerned face and smiled,  
" 'm fine dad"  
"I know son."  
"Stop worrying then."  
"I'm a dad, it's my job."  
Silence filled the space between them  
"You're a hero Stiles"  
"I'm not a hero d-"  
"You saved a life Stiles!"  
"After seven people died because of me!"  
"But you stopped it becoming eight. You saved an innocent life, that must've felt good. Hell even Coach was praising you for it."  
Stiles smiled fleetingly, "it did but I can't stop thinking about the ones that died."  
John nodded understanding the weight of guilt, he changed the subject, "Do you know who he was? The shooter."  
"I don't know his name, but he kept on saying how he knew you. You shot his brother, he was robbing somewhere and you shot him three times. So he saw it like an eye for and eye, you took his brother so he'd take me." Stiles hadn't raised his eyes whilst talking  
"I shot his brother?" John frowned trying to bring up the case  
"Yeah I don't remember it much, he kept saying how you let him die, let him bleed out. He was crazy dad, you wouldn't have been able to reason with him."  
"I think I know who you're taking about." John was focused, Sheriff mode, "it happened a while back, his brother was robbing a shop, he had a firearm and was threatening to shoot the shop owner, he fired but it missed, thankfully. I shot him then, in the leg, I think. He then tried to shoot the other officers, I had to stop him or he'd kill everyone, at least injure them. He died before the ambulance got there."  
"You called an ambulance?" Stiles looked up, "the man said you watched him die and didn't do anything."  
"What? You think I'm a psychopath? No I called an ambulance straight away!"  
Stiles blurred out the rest of his dad's words, he'd just realised what he'd done; he'd taken the first story and believe that and that alone. Just what Scott did with Theo. He felt guilty now for his anger at Scott, it wasn't his fault, he may be a werewolf but he was still human. He looked up at his dad who was still talking,  
"Dad" he interrupted  
His dad stopped talking and looked at Stiles  
"I'm tired, I'm going to sleep for a bit, I'll come downstairs soon."  
John got the meaning and nodded, "I love you son"  
"Love you too dad" Stiles mumbled from under the covers he drew over him  
John closed the door and rested his head against the wood smiling, his so was coming back to him. 

Stiles slept for a few hours, he slept a dreamless sleep. When he woke he felt refreshed, he sat up slowly afraid to rip his stitches again. He stood up and looked at his room, it looked much bigger without the clutter of Pack mysteries. He went over to his desk and flipped open his laptop. He stared at the photo smiling vacantly reminding himself of times he cherished. 

Then he reached out and picked up a pencil, he walked to the empty wall and began to draw. He let his pencil lead his hand, he watched as the lines evolved, swirling over the paint. He didn't know what he was drawing. The sketch was light, an outline for new paint to fill in. His brow was furrowed with concentration and his tongue stuck out slightly as he drew. He'd always loved drawing, it was freeing. Gave him power over the outcome. It allowed him to relax.

Finally he stepped back to see what he'd drawn. The tips faded into indefinite points, the twigs thickened into branches which twisted together into the huge trunk. On his wall, drawn by his subconscious mind was the Nemeton. 

The original drawing by Lydia stood at his bedside, he'd drawn it inverted so it looked like a tree instead of roots. Why had he drawn that? Why remind himself of what's happened? Maybe to remind himself of what's been accomplished, who they've saved. 

He was happy with it, it was calming to look at, the swirling roots waving in a breeze, the aged wood creaking as it grew and moved. In the morning he'd paint it. He sat on his bed staring at the drawing. He smiled, happiness glowed in his chest as he closed his eyes and drifted off once more into sleep.


End file.
